


Odd Dust

by Kmd222me



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmd222me/pseuds/Kmd222me
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale survived Armageddon. Existence continues as it was. There is suspicious dust.





	Odd Dust

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Please note this was technically based on the book version, but I did have the TV characters in my head for most of it. Plot may not specifically be in line with the TV ending!

It was over. They’d done it. All that fuss, millennia of blending in and living pseudo-human lives just to watch Armageddon slowly approach, reach its cusp and fizzle out as though it had never happened. When it was all said and done Aziraphale supposed he should have expected nothing less. Ineffable. But Crowley found himself slightly pissed, if he were being honest. All that dramatic lead up just to be left with a burnt crisp of a car and an unsatisfactory story arc. If he were writing the chronicles of his life, it definitely wouldn’t sell with an ending like this. But then he supposed it wasn’t really an ending, was it?  
  
His and Aziraphale’s existence, and the rest of Above and Below would continue to happen, and perhaps another prophecy would come along and stir up some more trouble for the lot of them. But in the meantime, he and Aziraphale were left in a slightly nerve-wracking silence from their respective people to essentially continue with what they had been doing before Armageddon came and went. That is, Aziraphale continued to not sell his books and Crowley carried on yelling at the worst of his plants, and slowly but surely, together they continued to consume every last drop of wine, that was worth their time, in Western Europe.  
  
Crowley remembered the morning after the Armageddon-that-wasn’t in a bit of a haze. He remembered finding his precious Bentley restored and Aziraphale’s book shop was put together, though with slightly different reading material than it had held previously. Overall, they were both satisfied to find that the sole objects they cared about in this material world had been restored. Though material things didn’t actually matter to them, it was oddly comforting to find the familiar aspects of their lives put back the way they belonged, no fuss.  
  
It was about three weeks after this large sigh of relief that things finally seemed normal again. Truly normal. Well, except for both Crowley and Aziraphale not hearing anything from their people, but they were quite good at ignoring that dread, really. They'd just shrug their shoulders and continue to sip their glasses of wine.  
  
The three weeks had ticked by the same as they had before. Crowley and Aziraphale dined out, drank a lot of wine, and spent a lot of time together reflecting on what happened, or rather, what hadn’t. It was another one of their signature evenings out and Crowley was sitting alone in Aziraphale’s back room, wishing the angel would quit his fussing and come sit to finish their evening properly.  
  
“What are you grumbling about back there, my dear boy?” Aziraphale was busy with a duster in one hand and his glass in the other. The store had technically only been open for 15 minutes today, much to the chagrin of several simply irate customers, but he still felt the shelves needed another cleaning.  
  
“I’m not grumbling! Maybe if you put down that duster and actually came back here and sat down so we could have a proper conversation you would’ve heard what I said,” Crowley said, standing from his perch on the arm of Aziraphale’s dusty old sofa, setting his glass down on the coffee table and sticking his head back into the main area of the shop.  
  
They had gone out around mid-evening to eat, well, Aziraphale had eaten, Crowley more nibbled on some bread from Aziraphale’s plate while they both drank several glasses of some vintage port that had been very exceptional, if Crowley did say so himself, before sobering up and returning to Aziraphale’s shop.  
  
Crowley had made himself comfortable in the back as Aziraphale made a comment about making sure everything was in order before joining him. He mistakenly figured it’d only be a brief moment before the angel rejoined him.  
  
When Crowley poked his head out to see what Aziraphale could possibly be doing, he was unsurprised to find him still dusting one of the many, many shelves of the shop.  
  
“Angel, don’t you think you’ve eradicated every speck of dust on these shelves? You’ve practically dusted the varnish right off the wood,” Crowley said, settling himself against the large shelf just to the right of the doorway.  
  
“I have done no such thing; they needed another dusting. Ever since the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t and the miraculous restoration of my books, the shelves have collected more dust than a catacomb. I’ve had to begin dusting twice daily just to keep it from settling,” Aziraphale continued his work, articulating his words with the hand that was still grasping his wine glass, which was nearly empty. Cleaning was certainly thirsty work.  
  
This piqued Crowley’s interest enough to convince him to stop leaning and actually traipse over to where Aziraphale stood. He looked at the shelf to Aziraphale’s right, one which he hadn’t gotten to yet, and found that Aziraphale was correct. There was a thick layer of dust that had settled along the tops of the books and on the surface of the shelves. It was so thick one would think it’d been untouched for months, perhaps years. It was an odd type of dust. It hardly even looked nervous when Crowley gave it a harsh look. This dust was spoiling his evening with the angel and that was a crime he considered unforgivable.  
  
Crowley was pulled from his thoughts when Aziraphale gave him a gentle nudge, trying to move the demon so that he may continue to clean the shelves. Crowley grunted at the dust before stepping back, continuing to eye it suspiciously over Aziraphale’s shoulder.  
  
He moved to examine the shelves Aziraphale had already covered, just to see if he could watch it resettle. And indeed, when Aziraphale finally vanquished all the stubborn dust on the rest of the shelves, Crowley could see where it would begin to re-seat itself.  
  
“There. Finished,” Aziraphale said, looking pleased with himself. With a flick of his wine glass, his duster was back to where it belonged. He stepped back to admire his books and when he felt satisfied, double checked the lock on the front door, ensured his cash counter was in all in order and then turned to Crowley.  
  
The demon had stood in the same spot, turning as Aziraphale flourished around the shop, finishing what should’ve been completed before they even went out. “Are you done now, angel?” Crowley asked, relieved that their evening could finally close itself off as usual.  
  
“Yes, I do believe so, thank you, dear. That dust would have distracted me all night,” Aziraphale said brightly as he passed by Crowley, who followed along behind him, returning to the back room and quickly refilling his glass as he settled himself into his armchair.  
  
They chatted about nothing important for a stretch of time, as they often did. Tittering and tattering about people they’d seen, the things they’d done since their last evening together and so on, for at least twenty minutes. Crowley began to feel restless, so he poured another glass. He was decently intoxicated another twenty minutes and another glass later. Aziraphale was in about the same state, looking slightly flushed and bounds more giggly than Crowley knew he’d ever allow himself to be while sober. Everything Crowley mumbled or muttered somehow became inherently more entertaining and soon they were both laughing about… Well, they couldn’t remember but it was hilarious.  
  
One of Crowley’s favorite things about the rest of forever was that existence seemed less heavy. He was still a demon, sure, but his companionship with Aziraphale had taught him invaluable lessons of positivity and optimism. It wasn’t in his nature to see the bright side of a situation, but it was becoming much easier for him to not immediately condemn anything that looked at him wrong, including but not limited to odd dust. Things just seemed that much brighter since they’d averted the End of Existence and Crowley was growing to accept that.  
  
Or maybe he was a lot drunker than he realized. Either way, he felt his insides grow just the slightest bit warmer at the thought of spending the rest of forever with Aziraphale. It wasn’t an unfamiliar thing for him, but he wasn’t sure he was in the state to handle those feelings.  
  
When he looked at the angel, he was met with those bright eyes and rosy cheeks, only growing rosier as they conjured another bottle to open and drain. His golden curls gave a little bounce as they laughed about nothing together. And how he, he… what was he doing? He blinked and came back to himself. Was he really sitting here dreamily gazing at this angel? He took in Aziraphale once more, how he was sitting, one leg over the other, pressed against the side of his armchair, holding his glass of wine, babbling on about something rather unimportant.  
  
Crowley had to set down his glass, feeling his vision swim the longer he gazed at Aziraphale. What was his problem? What was in that wine? Crowley considered sobering up immediately to clear his head, but one more glance at Aziraphale stopped him before he could consider it more seriously.  
  
“Are you all right, my dear?” Aziraphale said, cocking his head just slightly. He gave Crowley a fairly obvious once over, his expression growing more concerned as he too set down his glass.  
  
“I- erm…” Crowley pulled the sunglasses from his eyes and gave his face a good rub with his free hand.  
  
Aziraphale was up and over to the couch cushion just next to him in a blink. As a demon, Crowley wasn’t capable of feeling love in the same way as Aziraphale. Angels existed to love and bring love everywhere they went. It was part of their job description. On the other hand, Crowley’s job description would probably smolder, and possibly combust, if you tried to write the word love anywhere near it. But he could’ve sworn his heart, a non-vital organ for a creature of his type, skipped a beat when Aziraphale placed a hesitant hand to his forearm. And he could’ve sworn that for a split second he felt something akin to love radiating through his corporeal bones.  
  
“Do we need to sober up, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked, trying to remain collected.  
  
Crowley gave a quick nod before flushing the alcohol from his system. To be fair, there was probably enough alcohol in his bloodstream to kill the average human, so it was probably for the better that he brought himself back to his right mind. He could tell Aziraphale had done the same, as the flush to his cheeks was reduced significantly and his eyes regained their sharp blue focus.  
  
“Sorry, I… I’m unsure what overcame me,” Crowley gave his head a quick shake and set his sunglasses down onto the coffee table with his nearly empty wine glass. Together they’d nearly finished off this second bottle as well as the first. He decided to blame the alcohol. He’d probably consumed more in one sitting before, but it just seemed to hit him harder this time around. Perhaps the anticipation he’d built waiting for Aziraphale to finish with that damned dust was the underlying problem. Anticipation of what? Conversing some more? Yes, but Crowley knew there was something else influencing that anticipation as well, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to acknowledge it at that very moment… But he didn’t have time to chase that thought as Aziraphale spoke, grounding him in reality once more.  
  
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Aziraphale continued to look mildly, perhaps even moderately, concerned. Crowley found his concerned gaze to be almost… endearing. Oh, Someone, was he all right? He sagged into the back of the sofa and allowed himself to indulge in the plush stuffing that cradled him there. The couch was older than Aziraphale was likely to admit and thus, it had been broken in just as well as the angel’s precious armchair. He collected his thoughts for a brief moment. Did he really want to do this? He definitely wanted it, but was he willing to risk… Well, risk what exactly? He knew he and Aziraphale were close enough as friends, though that word didn’t seem correct in the description of their relationship, that if he made a mistake, it could easily be patched with some more fine dining and an evening of chatter. Crowley, though slightly unsure of what the outcome may be, made his choice.  
  
“Yeah, I’m good. Not sure what…” Crowley lost his train of thought as Aziraphale’s hand continued to linger on his arm. Surely he should shake the hand off and they could continue their evening.  
  
“Crowley?” Aziraphale looked at him and when Crowley caught his gaze this time, those blue eyes had something different in them. He’d seen it in the eyes of mortals before, but never in the eyes of an angel, specifically this one.  
  
Instead of shaking Aziraphale’s hand off his arm, he placed his right hand over it, making sure to keep his eyes focused on their hands, not wanting to see the angel’s face just yet. He gave it an almost imperceptible squeeze and immediately let his eyes dart back up to Aziraphale’s face. He saw something else flicker over Aziraphale’s countenance for a fraction of a second. It was precisely halfway through that fractal of a tick that their lips met. It wasn’t intense, more of a chaste and uncertain movement, really. But they were definitely in contact with one another. Crowley drew back his left hand slightly, intending to hold Aziraphale’s hand between his two, but the angel took it as a sign to retreat.  
  
“Crowley, I’m—”  
  
“Hush, angel,” and Crowley let himself push forward and lean Aziraphale flat onto his back on the long couch. “If you want me to stop, tell me so, otherwise, stop talking.”  
  
Aziraphale’s arms drifted up to grab Crowley by the shoulders, fingers digging in ever so slightly. He was nervous, Crowley could tell, and he himself felt a sense of insecurity, but gazing back into Aziraphale’s face bolstered his confidence. Aziraphale’s expression was nervous, but his eyes had a fire behind them Crowley definitely hadn’t seen in the eyes of an angel before.  
  
This time, Aziraphale pushed himself up to meet Crowley’s lips. Crowley ran his tongue over Aziraphale’s lower lip, who gave a slight groan, allowing Crowley to gain entrance to his mouth. They kissed with a slow passion, each groaning as the other pushed for that little bit of dominance. Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s hand from his shoulder and pushed it above the angel’s head. Aziraphale’s hips twitched as Crowley threaded his other hand into the angel’s hair. He’d always loved those golden curls and to be able to touch them, twine his fingers through them, and give them a slight pull— that left Aziraphale groaning when he did, and Crowley seized the opportunity to lick into his mouth with a renewed fervor—was a damned blessing.  
  
As Crowley continued to press into Aziraphale, his kisses became more demanding. Aziraphale pushed back against him, moaning as he aligned himself just so. Crowley gave another tug to Aziraphale’s curls and was rewarded with what Aziraphale would be embarrassed to describe as a whimper that blossomed into a full moan as Crowley began kissing down his neck.  
  
He was careful to only nip as he reached Aziraphale’s pulse-point, which he was pleased to find racing not too dissimilarly to his own. When he reached the junction of the angel’s neck and shoulders, he bit down, gently at first but then with growing intensity, while giving Aziraphale’s hair another light tug. Aziraphale bucked into Crowley, trying to put more pressure where he needed it as he grew more desperate for friction.  
  
It was then that Crowley let go of the angel’s hand and hair in favor of pulling Aziraphale’s bowtie free from its knot and slowly working his way down the buttons of his waistcoat. At the same time, Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair letting his hands slip to the demon’s shoulders. When Crowley took care to remove the pocket watch from Aziraphale’s waistcoat, he had to sit up ever so slightly to set it on the coffee table. And as the demon sat up, the angel followed, an idea beginning to form.  
  
Crowley wasn’t expecting Aziraphale to push him back into the arm of the sofa and he definitely wasn’t expecting the angel to begin pushing his unbuttoned suit jacket from his arms and drop his fingers to shove up the dark shirt underneath. Crowley conceded to allowing the angel to pull the shirt off of him completely, leaving him half-naked and Aziraphale unbuttoned, but not even to his deepest layer.  
  
“Angel, how upset will you be if I tear those clothes right off you?” Crowley regarded him with hooded eyes, feeling the arousal beginning to curl in his stomach as he imagined vanquishing the offending garments.  
  
“Quite. So, allow me—" Aziraphale made a quick motion with his hand and in less time than it took Crowley to blink, they were not only stripped to their pants, but their clothes were neatly folded in a tidy pile on the floor.  
  
“Not as fun, but I’ll allow it,” Crowley said, smirking. He then pressed forward into Aziraphale’s neck again, biting and sucking with more effort this time around. He was pleased to find that when he slid a hand down the angel’s torso and past his belly, that at the bottom of it was a cock, straining through his rather outdated pants.  
  
He began rubbing the angel’s hardness while continuing to lick and suck at his neck. The noises alone were enough to drive Crowley to insanity, but when Aziraphale began bucking into even the slightest pressure of his touch he pulled back, leaving a wet kiss on the angel’s slightly soft collar bone. He returned his lips back to Aziraphale’s, rubbing his own throbbing cock against the one he’d been teasing.  
  
As he pulled from Aziraphale’s lips, he felt a smile break out across his features. Crowley gave a slight chuckle as he considered the situation they were in.  
  
“Something funny come to mind, dear?” Aziraphale said, as though they were discussing nothing of importance over a coffee or tea and not nearly nude and flushed, pressed against one another in the angel’s back room.  
  
“Oh, nothing. Just weighing the options is all,” Crowley replied, falling back onto his heels from his raised position. “Perhaps we should move upstairs?”  
  
“I think that would be quite agreeable. Good idea, dear,” Aziraphale said, giving him a sweet peck across his lips, shifting to set his feet on the ground.  
  
Shortly, they found themselves standing at the entrance of the room which was technically supposed to be furnished like a bedroom. Though upon glancing in, Crowley found that it was quite similar to the downstairs. Enough books to keep one busy for centuries lined the walls and in the center was a plush rug with a well-loved armchair with a tall floor lamp set beside it.  
  
“Angel, you know technically bedrooms are supposed to have actual beds in them, right?” Crowley looked at the angel, who had the decency to look slightly embarrassed at their current situation.  
  
“Yes, well, you see, I don’t indulge so much in sleep like a certain snake I know, and I haven’t found myself in such a compromising situation in quite a long while, so I just never…” Aziraphale caught Crowley’s gaze and pulled him in for another biting kiss. “But you know what? This problem is quite easily solved.”  
  
Before his eyes, Crowley watched the furniture look at him warily before scooting off to the side. And in its place, a large, durable looking bed was gleaming in the moonlight. As quickly as the object appeared, Aziraphale dragged Crowley down onto it, positioning himself under the demon in a position where he was easily able to slide his hands underneath the waistband of his pants and take a firm hold on his lean arse. Crowley found his hips moving of their own accord as the angel continued to massage him like an expert, kneading in just the right ways.  
  
With a careful twitch of his left wrist, Crowley vanquished their pants from sight and the resulting skin on skin contact was nearly, what the demon would describe as, other-worldly. The friction was sending waves of pleasure straight into his gut and he felt himself grow a little dizzy at how good it felt. He’d been touch-starved for some time and it showed. To make things better, Aziraphale conjured a small bottle from thin-air and wrapped his now slick hand around both of their lengths. They both moaned as their cocks pressed together within the hot, slick channel of Aziraphale’s curled fist.  
  
Crowley’s vision grew a little blurry as Aziraphale first made contact with him and he let out a keening moan as the angel picked up the pace, thrusting along with his motions. Crowley dipped his head and kissed Aziraphale, teeth first. They groaned into each other’s mouths and eventually Crowley brought one of his hands down to aide the angel in pushing them further into one another’s pleasure.  
  
“Crowley—” Aziraphale’s voice was slightly taught, beginning to feel the pressure grow at the base of his cock.  
  
“Mmm, angel…” Crowley was feeling similarly, but he wasn’t ready for it to end. They could continue all night as immortal beings with near-complete control over their physical forms, but he wanted to at least milk their first orgasms for all they were worth. “Will you let me fuck you, angel?” He was getting bold, he knew. But the pleasure was going straight to his cock and he needed it to continue. He hadn’t been this aroused in centuries.  
  
Aziraphale whined back in his throat as Crowley sucked on his neck once more, turning the idea over in his mind. Their thrusting had slowed significantly, wanting to preserve their remaining time, and Aziraphale drew his hand away from their cocks to brush his hands over the demon’s face.  
  
“Oh, my dear, what if I, you instead?”  
  
Crowley’s brain short-circuited. He imagined the angel above him, fucking him into the mattress. Of all the outcomes he expected from this night spent with an angel, he had not expected to be offered the position to bottom. In all his previous couplings, he’d been in charge and had liked it that way. While this was their first real encounter together, Crowley felt their relationship was strong enough to let go of the reigns for a night. It was at this point that he thought once again of begging the angel to give him what he wanted and let out a moan that Aziraphale took as a good sign.  
  
“Is that a yes then, dear boy? Shall I get on with it?” Aziraphale looked up at him and smirked, feeling his cock twitch at the thought of having the demon lay down and beg for him.  
  
“Hng—Angel, yes, get on with—” Crowley couldn’t even finish his sentence before Aziraphale grabbed his sides and flipped their positions.  
  
Crowley gazed into the angel’s eyes and found himself groaning at the fire positively burning behind their clear blue surface. Crowley didn’t consider himself needy in bed, not by any means, but if Aziraphale was going to continue staring at him instead of fucking him, he was going to lose his damned mind.  
  
“Angel, angel please…”  
  
Aziraphale smiled brightly and summoned the little bottle to his hands, giving his fingers a fresh coat before using his clean hand to push Crowley’s legs apart.  
  
“Have you ever been in the submissive role before, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, teasing one finger over his hole, not quite pressing in.  
  
“Not in a very, very long time,” the demon answered truthfully, pressing ever so slightly down to meet the angel’s fingers, seeking their presence inside of himself immediately.  
  
“Then I’ll go slow, let me know if I need to slow down or stop, okay?”  
  
Crowley nodded in a way that could be described as a bit too vigorous before letting out a slow breath as Aziraphale slowly slid in his index finger to the first knuckle. All the while, the angel was leaning over the demon and returning the nips and licks the demon had left on his skin earlier. As Crowley adjusted to his finger, he slowly pushed it in further, feeling little to no resistance as he did so. Crowley was groaning as he pushed his finger in all the way.  
  
“I’m going to add another now, don’t fret dear,” Aziraphale said as Crowley began trying to move on his sole finger.  
  
He slicked up another and pressed it in alongside the first. Doubling the intrusion finally brought Crowley a slight burn and he had to focus to remember to breathe as Aziraphale slowly scissored him open, taking care to be a gentle as possible while still stretching him thoroughly. When Crowley’s breathing evened out and his eyes, though he didn’t recall letting them close, slid open a fraction, Aziraphale offered a third, which the demon accepted with a nod and a groan.  
  
It was only a few moments into the third finger, that Aziraphale moved his fingers in such a way that he just barely grazed Crowley’s prostate.  
  
“Angel! Fuck—” He struggled to articulate his thoughts properly as the angel continued to massage him in just the right way. As Aziraphale continued to stroke him, he was pleased to see Crowley’s cock twitched with renewed interest. When he considered Crowley to be ready, Aziraphale removed his fingers, wiping them on the sheets beside him.  
  
“Crowley, are you ready, dear heart?” The angel asked, pumping his hand slowly up and down his now slick cock in anticipation.  
  
“Angel…” Was all Crowley could groan before nodding vigorously, pressing his arse closer to Aziraphale’s hard length.  
  
That was all the consent Aziraphale needed before leaning over once more and slowly pressing the head of his swollen cock to the demon’s entrance. He carefully, with consistent speed and pressure, allowed his whole length to be taken by Crowley. When he was finally seated to the hilt, Crowley gave another moan and when he had adjusted to the angel’s size, began to give small thrusts, hoping to encourage Aziraphale to move.  
  
The angel took the hint and steadied himself on his elbows above the demon and slowly began to thrust into him. The first few had Crowley groaning, but as Aziraphale picked up his pace and the sounds of skin slapping and Aziraphale’s breath coming in louder pants filled the room, Crowley began moaning in earnest.  
  
“Crowley—”  
  
“Fuck—Angel…”  
  
They pressed into one another, lips meeting again in a fiery passion like no other. Crowley reached down to grab at his cock, but Aziraphale batted his hand away and began pumping in a rhythm to match his own thrusts. Crowley began pressing into Aziraphale faster than the pace that was set, so the angel went faster to accommodate.  
  
It wasn’t long before their thrusts became more erratic.  
  
“Fuck, angel, please,”  
  
Aziraphale groaned as Crowley began to beg in whimpers and moans under him as they both neared their climax.  
  
“Angel, harder—”  
  
And Aziraphale had no choice but to oblige, fucking into Crowley as fast as he could manage, groaning all the while. He doubled down on Crowley’s cock and increased the pressure of his grip. That was all it took to send Crowley over the edge, nearly sobbing out the angel’s name.  
  
“Az—Aziraphale, fuck, angel—”  
  
And Crowley was spent, his vision slowly clearing of stars.  
  
Aziraphale made to pull out, finishing himself off, but Crowley, even in his haze, clenched around him and said, “Angel, fuck me until you come.”  
  
The angel didn’t even have time to argue before Crowley was pushing back down into him again. Aziraphale pulled his hands down to the demon’s hips and gripped him hard enough to leave bruises, on mortals anyway, and fucked him in earnest.  
  
“Oh dear, oh, oh—Crowley—!”  
  
As he came, Aziraphale saw white. It’d been a long time since he’d come, let alone after such a windup. Slowly regaining consciousness, the angel pulled himself from the demon and sagged into his waiting embrace. Crowley began pressing kisses all along Aziraphale’s cheeks and forehead as they lay in the afterglow, Aziraphale remembering to miracle away their mess before submitting to the cuddling he knew Crowley would likely seek.  
  
And he was correct. That snake nature never did leave the demon. He was always keen to cuddle, post-coital or otherwise. They lay in each other’s embrace for a few more quiet moments before Crowley speaks.  
  
“Angel, could we do that again sometime?”  
  
Aziraphale couldn’t help the snort that escaped him at the question. It wasn’t harsh or jeering, it was fond and the angel on smiled wider as he replied.  
  
“Yes, my dear, I think that may be a wonderful idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I haven't ever published a piece of porn before, so I hope it's up to snuff. It's also been nearly 3 years since I wrote anything that I considered to be good enough for public view, so I'm open to criticisms and whatnot.
> 
> Also, this wasn't beta-ed, but I did run it through a grammar-checker and gave it a pretty good once over.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! (@goooodomens) There you can watch me retweet lots of nonsense and perhaps discuss future fic ideas.


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